A Wedding for the Single Dad by Meredith Webber

Author:Meredith Webber
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2020-12-11T13:23:51+00:00

* * *

Cam was awoken by a small hand tugging at his arm.

‘Daddy, there’s a dog in one of the kennels all over bandages! He looks sad and I think he’s hungry.’

Cam opened his eyes and peered blearily at his daughter. ‘What were you doing out at the kennels?’ he asked.

Maddie smiled at him. ‘I went to visit the cat. Madge came with me, with the food. No kittens yet, but she’s so big they must be coming soon!’

He closed his eyes, aware that he needed to get up, showered, dressed and fed, and to be ready for any patient that might come in.

‘Be a love and slip downstairs and ask Madge if she’ll make me some coffee. Tell her to use Henry’s old filter machine—I’ll need more than one cup.’

‘But what about the dog?’ Maddie asked, edging backwards towards the door.

‘Later,’ he said. ‘Now, go!’

With his first coffee in hand, he walked out to the kennels, where the dog lay quietly, stiff with tension in spite of the sedation.

Cam squatted beside him. ‘Hello, old boy,’ he said gently. ‘You’ll be feeling a bit rough, but we’ll soon get you well.’

He moved the bowl of clean water closer, talking all the while, hoping his tone would tell the dog that he was safe.

‘I’ll be back later,’ he said, and hurried back to his rooms, where a parrot who needed his toenails clipped was waiting for him, and Madge was sitting at the reception desk where his nurse usually sat.

‘She went off with the locum,’ Madge murmured to him as he carried his patient into the treatment room. ‘She left a note, and an address for you to send on any mail and wages, if they’re due.’

Oh, great, he thought. But his attention was on the bird, who was eyeing him closely, as if deciding where best to nip him.

‘He’s really gentle, and very old, so he won’t bite,’ his owner said.

Wrong.

One look at the clippers and the bird let out an indignant squawk and nipped him sharply on the thumb.

But the job was soon done, the thumb bandaged, and his next patient—a constipated poodle—had arrived.

Somehow he got through the morning, and he had finally closed the door, aware that he should be writing up all the notes his nurse would normally do, but craving a small nap instead, when Lauren arrived.

‘I thought I’d sit with the dog for a while...just talking to him.’

‘Forget the dog—you’re an answer to a prayer.’ He paused then added, ‘No, don’t forget the dog. I have to look at him anyway, and if you’ve the time to talk quietly to him that would be excellent, but first of all do you know anyone who’d like a kitten, or a job as a veterinary nurse?’

It said a lot for Lauren’s equanimity that, although she smiled, she honed in on the immediate problem.

‘Don’t vet nurses need special training?’ she asked.

‘Usually,’ he said, ‘but if I can’t get a qualified one straight away, even just someone to sit at the desk would do.

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